


before we tie the knot

by Engineer104



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Annette Week (Fire Emblem), Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Self-Doubt, Tea Parties, Wedding Planning, and mercedue if you squinty squint, background dimimari, little angst but way more fluff, very loosely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24071614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104
Summary: Annette realizes for the first time what marrying Felixreallymeans, so she tries to do the only thing she knows she's good at to prepare: study.*// For Annette Week Day 2: Self-Doubt
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 19
Kudos: 89





	before we tie the knot

**Author's Note:**

> As of posting, this is my one and only offering for Annette Week, but, well, i'd like to think it's a good (and very fluffy) one so i hope you'll enjoy it! <3

It started with a simple inquiry while taking tea with friends in the castle’s inner gardens. Annette picked blueberries off the fruit tart on her plate and popped them into her mouth, savoring their juicy tartness before nibbling at the pastry itself.

Hilda prattled on about her new crafts business with some occasional (prompted) input from Marianne. The new queen spoke little - Annette didn’t know her as well as she’d like, but she supposed there would be time to change that - and mostly smiled from behind her teacup.

“Oh, and Annette!” Hilda’s fist fell against the table, rattling their teacups and the tray laden with Mercedes’ pastries, as she rounded on her. “You have to hire me to make your jewelry for the wedding!”

“Well, sure!” Annette agreed easily enough. She hadn’t thought much about accessories (of all things) yet, except that maybe her mother would bequeath her the lovely necklace her father once gave her before they married, and of course she would wear Felix’s ring…but Hilda could be responsible for her earrings!

So long as they matched, which she was sure Hilda would accommodate.

“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Hilda continued as if Annette hadn’t acknowledged her request. She glanced around the table at the other women assembled. “We’re really all moving up in the world, aren’t we? I’m getting my business started - as a real entrepreneur! - and Marianne here just had her coronation as Queen of _Fodlan_!”

“It was almost a year ago, Hilda,” Marianne corrected quietly from beside her.

“Huh, well, time flies faster than a wyvern from winter!” Hilda conceded brightly. She sipped at her tea before turning to Mercedes. “This tea is delicious, by the way, Mercedes.”

“Thank you, Hilda,” Mercedes said. “I’m so glad you like it.”

“What are you up to these days, Mercedes?” Hilda wondered. “You know, besides helping Annette with her wedding planning.” She flashed her a wink.

“Oh, nothing much, really,” Mercedes said, her own teacup sitting snug in her hands. “I’ve just been overseeing the construction of an orphanage here in Fhirdiad, though I’m thinking I might travel to Duscur with Dedue after the wedding.”

“You’re as much a saint as Saint Cethleann, Mercedes,” Hilda praised, grinning. “Maybe you should be the next one to get married, though I doubt you’d find a man deserving of you.”

Mercedes laughed and said, “Oh, I suppose we’ll see. I’m in no hurry, not really.” She wrapped an arm around Annette’s shoulders. “I’m just happy seeing Annie getting married to someone who loves her.”

Annette couldn’t help smiling as she leaned her head against Mercedes’. Even just the thought of Felix and how they’d be married soon warmed her and filled her with giddiness. The excitement of it all sat under her skin, but rather than bounce around in her seat like she really, _really_ wanted to, she said, “I still can’t believe it.”

Hilda snorted. “I totally believe it,” she said. “Do you know how many times I wasted effort trying to get Felix to do a favor for me? And all _you_ had to do was stumble in his direction for him to carry your books.” She shook her head.

Annette’s cheeks warmed. She clapped her hands over them, as if that would hide the redness. “I’m…sorry?” she offered Hilda. “He owed me since…well”—she shivered in mortification—”you don’t need to know about that! And I’ll have you know I never asked him to!”

“Exactly!” Hilda sighed, though Annette didn’t doubt for a second it was one of longing. “What I’d give for a man to fall over himself trying to help me…”

Marianne cleared her throat. “What about—”

“Oh, you’re right, Marianne!” Hilda grinned, back to good cheer (not that she’d truly been dejected). “But say, Annette, what’s this about Felix _owing_ you?”

Annette’s face, somehow, grew even hotter as she sputtered into her tea. “I am not telling you about that!”

“Aw, come on!” Hilda goaded her. “Give me something funny to talk about when I make a speech at your wedding!”

“You’re not giving a speech at my wedding,” Annette told her, “ _especially_ not about—about this!”

“Please?” Hilda batted her eyelashes at her, a tactic that no doubt worked on many a young and impressionable nobleman but wouldn’t work on _her_ , oh no. “Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“No!” she insisted.

“Why not?” Hilda wondered. “If Felix owed you something, well, isn’t it a pretty big deal to have a duke indebted to you?”

“It wasn’t like—I mean, that’s not that kind of debt!” If Annette didn’t know any better, she would think her face was the sun itself at this point. “Besides, when _it_ happened, he wasn’t a duke yet, and even if he was, it wouldn’t matter.”

“Oh, of course not,” Hilda agreed in a tone that suggested she didn’t agree at all. She glanced at Mercedes, who, ever loyal to Annette, offered no comment except to drink her tea. “Fine, fine.” She raised her hands in defeat. “You can have your secret _this_ time, but I’ll get it out of you someday even if Marianne has to abuse her newfound powers as queen to do it.”

“Hilda, please leave me out of your petty squabbles,” Marianne said with a long-suffering sigh.

Hilda patted her hand. “I can’t if they’re also _your_ petty squabbles.” She took a large, rather unladylike bite from her cheese pastry, then dabbed at her lips with a cloth napkin.

Annette breathed a sigh of relief, though it would likely be short-lived. At least Hilda dropped it for now and she could go back to feigning blissful ignorance amid the frenzy of wedding plans. Oh, even just this tea party with friends robbed her of precious time; when she considered how much she still had to do - everything from writing personalized notes for the party favors to finalizing the food served at the banquet to yet _another_ dress fitting - she regretted allowing Mercedes and Hilda to convince her to take one break for tea with them and Marianne.

“You’re really climbing the social ladder too, Annette,” Hilda commented, interrupting Annette’s composition of her mental to-do list. “Sorcery professor and niece of a baron marrying a duke. That’s quite a jump! I’m almost proud of you.”

“It’s, well, I hadn’t really thought of it that way before…” Annette lied. She giggled though it sounded insincere to her own ears.

“Isn’t your father a duke, Hilda?” Mercedes wondered.

“Well, sure!” Hilda said. “But it’s not like being a duke’s daughter is like being a duchess! It doesn’t come with any responsibilities when I have an older brother to be his heir. I mean, as soon as the war ended, I made sure to give Freikugel back to him because I did _not_ want that kind of responsibility longer than I had to have it.” She smiled across the table at Annette. “And our lovely Annette’s going to be a duchess!” She reached for the teapot sitting on its cozy. “I’m sure she’ll be great at it too!” She brandished the teapot around. “Does anyone want more tea? Marianne?”

Annette barely heard her for the words echoing in her head.

_Our lovely Annette_ _’s going to be a duchess!_

Oh, goddess, what in the name of all five Saints was Annette getting herself into?

* * *

Annette scanned the titles on the books’ spines. While not up to the standards of the Royal School of Sorcery, Castle Fhirdiad’s library impressed in its own right and was more likely to have the volume she searched for. She’d stolen a few precious moments from lesson planning and wedding planning for this, and if she didn’t find it - and if, goddess forbid, she had to resort to asking the librarian for help! - her time would’ve been wasted for naught.

She muttered titles under her breath, tapping her fingers against her thigh as a faint memory rose to the surface of her mind:

_“Annette, is this book yours?”_

_“‘_ A Treatise on Etiquette _’? I haven’t seen it before…maybe you should ask around.”_

_“Oh, I thought for sure…”_

“Where is it?” Annette grumbled as she passed “treatise” after “treatise” after “ _treaty_ ”. Her finger slid along the spines, coming away so dusty she was tempted to shake down the nearest servant for a rag or feather duster - did Dimitri or anyone else living at the castle never _read_? - but she persevered. If Lorenz carried such a book, then surely—

“What…are you doing?”

“Bah!” Annette spun on her heel - and counted her blessings that at least this time she didn’t stand atop a ladder - and found Felix standing behind her with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“I asked first,” Felix noted in an infuriatingly reasonable tone.

She gestured towards the towering shelves behind her. “I am in search of a book.”

“Didn’t you explain to me the other day that you had no time for…leisure activities?”

Annette flushed. The “leisure activity” in question had been little more than an evening walk that probably would’ve turned into kissing…for longer than a couple not yet married should. She returned her attention to the bookshelves and, after clearing her throat, said, “Well, you know how it is, Felix. You’re busy gluing a country back together, and I’m busy teaching and planning our wedding.”

Yet another “treatise” caught her eye, but this time the words “on etiquette” followed. A triumphant gasp escaped her, even as she stood on her toes to reach for it.

Another hand reached over her head and easily slid it out from between the books nestling it. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked.

Annette froze, her arm still outstretched and almost leaning against the shelves. Felix emanated a very welcome - and distracting - heat, and if she relaxed even a hair she would be leaning into him, and he could wrap an arm around her, and she could pull him into a kiss.

Except now was _not_ the time to entertain such an indulgence when a mission held her attention. There would be plenty of time for that after the wedding (she hoped), but for now she turned around.

And found him much too close.

She scowled as she recovered her footing, glaring up at him and holding a hand up. “I’ll take that now.”

Felix seemed to weigh it in his hands with a thoughtful twist to his lips. “What will you give me in return?”

Annette crossed her arms and offered him a terse smile. “I will give you your ring back.”

His eyes widened, a flicker of horror crossing his face. “What? It’s just a book.”

She sighed, shame that she went too far tugging at her, but grumbled, “Do you want a song for the book?”

“Maybe another time,” Felix said. He leaned down just a little, until she could see each distinct eyelash framing his eyes.

Her breath caught, unaccustomed as she still was to him taking initiative, but a smirk stretched her lips before she pressed them against his. Her hand fisted in his shirt, tugging him closer as his warm breath whispered across her cheek and he kissed her.

Heat filled her, heat and something indescribable bubbling in her chest and threatening to burst. Annette couldn’t remember a time she’d been this happy, watching everything fall into place: a career she liked, students she adored, her father returned to her, friends she admired, a long hard-won war behind her…a fiance she loved, who improbably loved her just as intensely.

So much of her hard work paid off, but still so much left to do.

Felix cupped her jaw with his free hand, and with hers…

Annette reached around until her fingers clasped the book and she could tug it from his grasp. She broke the kiss, her face warm and lips tingling as she caught her breath and met Felix’s wide, bewildered eyes.

She tapped his nose with the book. “So we have a deal?”

He blinked at her until his gaze flicked over the title and he read aloud, “ _A Treatise on Etiquette_?”

Annette smiled sheepishly, her cheeks somehow growing even hotter than they had when he kissed her. “I was just looking for a nice bedtime read…”

Felix raised an eyebrow and pointed at the title. “A _nice_ bedtime read?” he echoed, tone dripping skepticism. “Are you in a book club with Gloucester’s son now?”

She sighed and, finally, admitted, “I just, well, I did remember Lorenz having that book while we were in school, and I thought it might be a good start so I could…prepare.”

He snorted. “Do you have an exam soon that I don’t know about?”

She shook her head, but her heart stuttered in her chest, an uncomfortable sensation. She clutched the book closer and stared at her feet before mumbling, “Unless you count the wedding as an exam…”

“Annette.” Felix grasped her chin so gently her breath stuck in her lungs. When she looked up at his behest and their eyes met, she found him frowning at her, a furrow on his forehead she longed to smooth out. He licked his lips, and she could tell he considered his next words carefully. In a low voice he wondered, “Are you sure you want to…marry me?”

“Yes,” Annette said without hesitation. Her hand found his, and she laced their fingers together, their palms flush. “I do, yes.” The fact that he even had to ask made her chest tighten with shame.

She expected - hoped - her words would reassure him, but his frown lingered. “Then what’s wrong?” he asked.

She worried her lip between her teeth as she cast her gaze about the library, quiet and empty but for them. A part of her feared Felix would make light of her concerns, but an even bigger part knew he wouldn’t.

That, somehow, almost scared her more.

Annette inhaled shakily before explaining, “I don’t know the first thing about being a duchess, Felix.”

He dropped his hand from her chin and reached for the book nestled in her arms. She let him take it, and when he held it up he said, “You think this book will teach you?”

She shrugged and confessed, “Maybe not, but I thought it would be a good start.”

Felix thumbed through the book, pausing on the first page of each chapter to read the titles aloud. “‘A Noble’s Duty’,” he said with a scoff. “‘A Commoner’s Duty’, ‘Rank and Honorifics’, ‘Travel Etiquette’, ‘Dining Etiquette’…” He snapped the book shut and reached over her to replace it on the shelf.

“Felix, wait—”

“You don’t need this,” he told her as confidently as he ever spoke of his own skill with a sword.

That familiar tone itself gave her pause, but she protested, “Yes, I do! If I mess up being a duchess - and I know I will mess something up - I’d rather not do it out of ignorance, and etiquette is—”

“—not as meaningful as you seem to think.” Felix’s hand wrapped around her wrist and drew her attention back to him. “I barely know how to be a duke.”

“Didn’t you grow up learning how?” Annette exclaimed, surprised.

Which, well, perhaps she shouldn’t have been considering he rubbed the side of his nose and admitted, “Not if I could help it. The thing I learned best is how to swing a sword, though I’d like to think I have good taste in music.” He offered her a small smile.

She giggled, cheered despite the worries plaguing her. “I’m not too convinced of that yet, but, well, you’ll learn, right?” She rolled her eyes. “I remember Sylvain and Ingrid and the professor had to drag you out of the training grounds sometimes, so there’s a reason you’re good at that.”

“Right, because I practiced.” When Felix tapped her nose, her eyes crossed to keep his fingertip in view. “So you’ll practice being a duchess just like you practiced magic.”

Annette swatted his hand away. “What do you think I’m trying to do now?”

“Annette,” Felix said, a hint of an impending scolding in just that one word, “unlike the sword or magic, being a duchess isn’t…life or death.”

“You don’t know that,” she told him. “Have you ever been a duchess?”

“Well, obviously not,” he said, rolling his eyes, “but my mother was, and she didn’t…die just because she was a terrible duchess.” He gritted his teeth, and it surprised her he would be so forthcoming in such a casual manner.

“All right, fine,” Annette conceded. “Maybe she didn’t, but if I live long enough and do terribly, someone could…assassinate me, or assassinate _you_ , or—”

She cut herself off with a squeak when he stepped closer, eyes dark and intense as he insisted, “I won’t let that happen.”

“I, um, I know you won’t _let_ that happen,” Annette said with a sigh. “Maybe I was being a little hyperbolic…”

“A little,” Felix agreed, snorting. He grasped her hand in both of his, and before she could muster some other excuse - because she would _not_ ascend to duchess-hood without sufficient background knowledge even if she had to make flashcards for Mercie to hold out for her to read during her next dress fitting - he wondered, “Why is this suddenly on your mind anyway?” His eyes widened, and his grip tightened. “Wait, how long has this been on your mind?”

“Um…perhaps a day or so?” Annette replied. Tea with Mercie, Hilda, and Marianne had been yesterday…and Hilda’s words weighed heavily on her mind since. “I just…well, I realized what marrying you meant and how much my life would really change. Not enough to _not_ want to marry you,” she hurriedly reassured him, “but enough that I don’t know what to expect, or what anyone _else_ will expect of me, and that…” Her stomach writhed with all too familiar nerves, tying itself into knots she couldn’t begin to untangle, and her voice lowered as she said, “That scares me, Felix.”

Her breath hitched when he brushed a few stray strands of her hair away from her face, his touch feather-light against her skin. His eyes slipped shut, as if he weighed his words carefully and tasted each one. “I can’t promise that our lives won’t change,” he said, his eyes opening but darting away from her face, “but you shouldn’t let that scare you.”

“Wow,” Annette said, unable to keep the sarcasm from her tone, “you’ve cured me. I’m not scared at all anymore!”

Felix quirked an eyebrow at her, and not for the first time she was grateful he was so patient (with her anyway). “Maybe I phrased that poorly,” he said. “Just don’t let your fear get the best of you.” He cupped her cheek and leaned in to press his lips against her forehead. “You’re smart and brilliant enough to learn on the job, and if something goes wrong, I’ll remind you of that first.”

Annette smiled, despite herself, despite the worries that still plagued her - that always _would_ plague her, she suspected. She leaned into him, and the sigh that escaped her was more relieved than exasperated or melancholy.

“And if anyone has anything bad to say about you,” Felix added, “they’ll have to answer to me.”

She tilted her head back, and their eyes met. His lips quirked into the faintest smile, something she knew to be genuine as he never bothered to fake them. “You know,” she said as her hands slid up his chest to rest on his shoulders, “you’re awfully chivalrous for someone who hates chivalry.”

A hint of red tinted Felix’s cheeks, and his gaze slipped past her as if he found something fascinating on the bookshelves. “Shut up,” he mumbled.

She giggled and touched his jaw. “Is that any way to speak to your bride, Felix?”

He flushed impossibly darker, which only made Annette laugh harder - though she suspected her own face was pink from how warm she felt - and wonder how Felix could be so thoroughly flustered now when moments ago he kissed her after cornering her in the library.

…which reminded her that anyone from a grumpy royal librarian to the king himself could walk in on them at any moment.

“I suppose I do already have enough to keep me occupied until the wedding,” she admitted with a mournful glance over her shoulder at the bookshelf.

Felix’s thumb skirted across her cheek, and he hummed thoughtfully. “It’s not too late to elope.”

Annette planted her palms against his chest and shoved him away. “And waste everyone’s hard work? And Mercie’s cake? Absolutely not!”

He laughed, and even when she shot him her best glare the villain still smiled. His hand caught hers, and he tugged her closer. “Maybe I just don’t want to wait another three weeks to marry you when I could do it tomorrow.”

If Annette was one for swooning, she was sure his words would’ve knocked her off her feet. As it was, her knees trembled, and she leaned into him hoping he wouldn’t notice that…or her heart racing. “Felix, you villain,” she chided him. “If you’re not careful, you may actually convince me.”

The smirk he flashed her spoke of a challenge accepted, so Annette rushed to add, “But we still have the wedding, all right? Maybe it’ll be superfluous by then, but I want everyone else to have fun too.”

“And you want to eat your cake,” Felix guessed.

“And I want to eat my cake,” she confirmed, a smile pushing at her lips. Her chest filled with warmth, and she said, “Maybe I can persuade you to share a dance with me too?”

He grasped her chin, his gaze drifting down to her mouth. “Only with you,” he said. “If I have to dance with every noblewoman in the Kingdom, I’m returning to Fraldarius before dessert.”

“Don’t worry,” Annette said, “I’ll keep you all to myself. I take dessert very seriously, you see…”

She barely finished her sentence before Felix sealed his lips over hers.

And Annette knew she was loved, and understood, and that even when she threatened to crumple under the weight of her own and others’ expectations, she would have Felix to tug her to her feet and help her shoulder the burden.

(And if they’d already spoken their vows and exchanged rings and kissed before a chapel altar by the time the wedding began, no one had to know.)

**Author's Note:**

> writing Hilda in that first scene was a lot of fun. she's a scene-stealer, man. i also like to headcanon that Annette and Felix do elope in their non-AM ending, just ditch Garreg Mach between terms to marry in some nearby chapel (with Mercedes officiating, obviously) because they want as few people to know as possible ;_;
> 
> anyway! let me know what you thought?


End file.
